


The Grief Of A Time Lord - After The Week Long War

by HelenC



Series: The Grief Of A Time Lord [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode AU: s04e06 The Doctor's Daughter, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Episode: s04e06 The Doctor's Daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenC/pseuds/HelenC
Summary: This is part one of a three or four part story arc covering my idea of the Doctor breaking down after the loss of his daughter from the episode The Doctor's Daughter.Includes what I imagine went on during the Time War I warn you it's pretty dark.I do not own Doctor Who or any of the characters
Series: The Grief Of A Time Lord [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821154
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	The Grief Of A Time Lord - After The Week Long War

“Make the foundation of this society ‘a man who never would!’ His furious shout bounced off the far walls, seeming to send whispers through the vegetation. Tossing the gun away, his eyes once more alighted on the body of one whom he had been able to call ‘daughter’ after so many years and his composure broke utterly. Letting out a heartrending howl of anguish, he scooped her up in his arms and, his vision blurred by tears; bore her away into the outer tunnels and corridors of the settlement.

Martha and Donna watched in helpless pity, as the Doctor staggered from the vast, beautiful chamber cradling the lifeless body of his daughter, knowing that he wouldn’t want an audience for his grief. Watched as human and Hath alike silently parted before him, not daring to meet his eye. He may not have shot the General, but his companions could tell that something fundamental had broken deep inside of him.

Each, in their own time, had seen the depth of pain that lay behind those deceptively carefree eyes but only now did they truly start to comprehend the enormity of the losses he had suffered. He had told Donna that his reluctance to allowing Jenny to travel with them was because she reminded him so much of all he had lost and now he had lost them all over again. Just thinking about it made Donna feel slightly sick.

The universe seemed to have granted him a chance to hope he could have a family again after believing for so long that it was not worth the risk and then had cruelly snatched that hope from him. It was worse than that, she had died protecting her father, and he would blame himself. The what-ifs would haunt him; what-if he hadn’t treated her like more than a soldier, if he hadn’t allowed himself to develop feelings for her, if he had allowed her to shoot the general, if, if, if. Then maybe she’d still be alive.

All these thoughts and more were assailing the Doctor’s grief stricken mind as he stumbled blindly through the tunnels not knowing or caring where he was going. He could see the faces of all those who had died; for him, against him, innocent souls caught in the crossfire.

He heard the screams as UNIT soldiers were mown down by Sontarans.

He watched as the terrified inhabitants of Pompeii were engulfed in ash, children clinging desperately to their parents.

He laid his burden down and sank to his knees. “No! Leave me alone!” he cried, throwing his arms over his head, trying in vain to escape their accusing glares. But the ghosts kept coming; Astrid, her arms still outstretched, The Master, a triumphant smirk on his face, the good man Yana he might have been, Joan, the woman he’d betrayed. Every one of them paraded before him, wraithlike, until he caught sight of one that nearly stopped his hearts in his chest.

“Rose.” He breathed her name no louder than a whisper but it seemed to reverberate in his head as a shout. He reached out to her only for her to fade away to be replaced by still others; Katarina, Adric, Romana, Susan…! He gave a strangled sob as the thought of his grandchild brought back haunting memories of The War. Even she hadn’t been spared; Rassilon had gathered all his errant sons and daughters from all corners of the universe in the last days; not only The Master but The Rani, Chronotis, The Monk, even K’anpo. Those who wouldn’t fight, Rassilon had executed as traitors in his madness. Only the Doctor’s expertise at evading his own people had allowed him to avoid it for so long. But that was before … no he mustn’t, he couldn’t!

There was no holding them back now though, the memories seared like fire through his brain; the noise of discharging weapons and screaming, the acrid smoke, the silver leaved trees and beautiful red grass burning, the once proud citadel burning. A world on fire. The Doctor had seen such a thing before and still bore the scars from that experience but this was infinitely worse. It seemed to him that he watched detached as he saw ordinary Gallifreyans and High Lords alike huddled together in fear among the rubble that had once been their homes, parents calling for lost children, children crying for their parents, the injured and dying howling in pain. All of it a horrifying tableau of chaos and grief.

Now it seemed that he was the ghost as he got up shakily and stumbled through the scene. Dalek energy bolts struck all around, killing both defenceless civilians and soldiers. Man, woman and child, the Daleks made no distinction and they wouldn’t stop until there was not a soul left on Gallifrey. He ducked as a bolt whizzed past his ear. A small part of him recognized that all this was just a trauma induced flashback and he couldn’t be harmed by anything he saw but his conscious mind was acting on instinct, too far gone to listen to it.

His feet seemed to follow an inexorable path of their own through the destruction, a path he slowly remembered he had taken once before.

“No! For Time’s sake don’t make me see that! Not again! Please!”

But it was too late, he was already standing outside the bombed out remains of his own house and he already knew what he’d find inside. The last of his sanity snapped as his knees gave way and he fell forward, crawling to where he knew his wife and children lay, still wrapped around each other just as they were when the Dalek shot them down, just as they had been when he had found them all those years ago.

He cradled their bodies in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.

They heard the scream in the Source chamber where the humans and Hath were still getting to grips with the sudden state of peace. The general had been locked up in one of the cells to be dealt with later and both races along with Martha and Donna were busy tending to the wounded and recovering the dead. But the force of that scream stopped them dead, the note of primal anguish contained within, chilling them to the bone.

Immediately Martha and Donna raced after the source of the sound, fearful for what they would find. They were joined by Cline and a couple of soldiers who had retrieved some of the discarded guns. Had there been guards posted in the tunnels who didn’t know that things had changed? Had the Doctor injured himself on one of the defence systems? But his two friends knew it had to be something worse than mere pain to make him cry out like that.

“Doctor! Doctor where are you?!” Donna yelled. Silence.

“Look! Over here!” exclaimed Cline. He had found Jenny’s body where the Doctor had laid her.

“Take her to the great hall and lay her on the stage,” he instructed the two guards, who wordlessly lifted her between them and carried her away.

Cline sadly watched them go and then turned back to the task at hand, they had to find the Doctor.

“Why isn’t he here? Why did he leave her behind?” He asked, confused.

“Shh!” Hissed Martha, “I can hear something.” It was very faint but she could swear it sounded like humming, a lilting mournful tune.

As they followed it Donna was suddenly struck with an awful thought. Something her Granddad had once talked about. He hadn’t spoken often about his experiences in the army; to be fair she hadn’t taken that much of an interest. However he had occasionally needed to unburden himself and, loving him like she did, she had listened attentively, on chilly but clear nights as they stargazed in his lonely allotment, while he reminisced about, and toasted with cold tea, army pals he had lost. And those who had come back changed.

“Martha, did you know that the Doctor had children?” Donna asked tentatively.

“He didn’t explicitly say but he did talk about his family once; to be fair to him I didn’t give him much of a choice.” She gave a wry smile at the memory before her expression clouded over, “he said he’d lost them and everything else in a war”

“He only told me today, I had no idea. I mean I knew about the war but...” She paused again “Granddad said that in the war he fought some of his friends came back alive but … damaged. Like nightmares and flashbacks and…” she tailed off.

Martha nodded “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, very common, not only in wars but can occur from lots of traumatic experiences…” Suddenly she caught up with Donna’s train of thought and gave her a look of alarmed understanding. “We need to find him!”

“What are you talking about?” asked Cline, not quite keeping up with the conversation.

“The Doctor once fought in a war before, a much bigger war,” Martha explained. “It destroyed his entire home planet and killed everyone on it, including his family. We’re afraid that Jenny’s death has triggered memories he's repressed for a very long time. The impact on his mental state could be catastrophic.”

They quickened their pace through the tunnels, still following the haunting melody as it grew slowly louder until Martha stopped them at the entrance to a larger space, criss-crossed with gantries. They could just make out a figure, huddled in the shadows, rocking back and forth like a child and humming quietly to itself.

The little band approached cautiously, not wanting to frighten him with any sudden noises.

“You try first,” suggested Martha to Donna. “You’re his current companion; he might be more likely to be confused to hear me.”

“Doctor?” Donna ventured, hesitantly, “it’s me, Donna.” There was no reaction. “Come on spaceman. Please, just look at me?”

The Doctor’s head snapped up to look at the intruder, his eyes glassy and unfocused but although he didn’t show an ounce of recognition something registered in his addled mind.

“What are you?! You’re shifting so much!” the look of abject horror written plain on his face made Donna start back in shock. “What are you?! You’re one of their weapons aren’t you?! Go away! Please! Just leave me alone!” He hid his head back under his arms and curled up into a ball “No more, please, no more!”

Donna backed away, aghast, and bumped into Martha who wrapped her arm around her comfortingly.

“I’m all right,” assured Donna gallantly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” But there was a part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if his words had been more than mere delusional rambling. He’d obviously seen … something… She tried to put it to the back of her mind; he needed her help.

Martha squatted down in front of him and gently stroked his hair. Not even when he had been a captive of the Master in The Year That Never Was had she seen him look quite so helpless as he did now.

“Doctor? It’s Martha, I’ve brought some friends to help you. Come with us back to the TARDIS. It’ll all be okay I promise.” She winced as those words escaped her lips without thinking as she wasn’t sure she could promise anything of the sort, but she would do her very best. And as there were no longer any professionals from his own race who could truly help him he was stuck with her.

The Doctor peeked out from under his arms like a child, taking in Martha and Cline, then shook his head vehemently “No humans allowed on Gallifrey! I told Sarah! No humans allowed on Gallifrey… Sarah…” He seemed to be nearing exhaustion, the mental and physical exertion was taking its toll but Martha knew who he must be talking about and pressed the advantage.

“It’s alright, we’ll take you to Sarah Jane, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you. Come on.” she gently helped him up from the floor, motioning to Cline to assist her.

Between them and with Donna leading the way they guided the Doctor back to the TARDIS where they briefly said goodbye to Cline before helping the Doctor through the doors. Once inside they suddenly stopped in surprise at the totally unfamiliar control room that greeted them. Instead of coral pillars and metal grilles, the interior was a sterile, but rather calming white with regular roundels set into the walls. As soon as the doors closed behind them the TARDIS dematerialised without any input from any of them, they could only hope that she would take them where the Doctor needed to be right now.

A small bed emerged from a recess in one wall surrounded by lockers and Martha and Donna walked the Doctor over to it, helping him to lie down. Martha found a blanket in one of the lockers and spread it over his supine body. He fell into unconsciousness almost as soon as his head touched the pillow but even in sleep he never truly lost the lines of tension that seemed as if they were engraving themselves into his face.

Neither Martha nor Donna had ever seen him sleep, they had just assumed that he must do, he surely couldn’t keep up his energy levels without it. But looking at him now he just seemed so childlike and vulnerable in a way they’d never seen before; a far cry from the confident, cock-sure face he presented to the rest of the universe.

Donna brushed a stray hair from his forehead. “You go get yourself cleaned up, I’ll look after him for awhile,” she said, giving Martha a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s me whose been looking after him all this time anyway no matter what he thinks.” She took his hand in hers, just sitting on the side of the bed.

Martha smiled at the two of them with only a twinge of envy. It was obvious that they’d worked out their own relationship, as best friends without any romantic undertones and it seemed to be what the Doctor knew best.

As she walked through the never-ending corridors of the TARDIS she mused on how much she had changed since travelling with the Doctor. She no longer begrudged what he had had with Rose and she was starting to understand that in the grand scheme of his oh-so complicated life those feelings he had allowed himself to feel with her had been the exception rather than the rule. Maybe he had hoped that he had found someone with whom he could share his love. But events had conspired against him once again and through no fault of his own he had lost her. This was probably why he had had such a hard time letting her go.

“Strays.” A whisper rattled down the corridor but Martha, deep in thought, didn’t hear.

The very nature of his existence meant that he was going to lose those he was closest to. That was ultimately what he tried to hide behind the running and the breathless excitement and the danger, the knowledge that he would outlive all those he grew attached to. And the more he was forced to face up to that fact the more unstable his mental state would become.

But that was the paradox at the heart of him, as it was also the reason he needed them around; to ground him, to hold him to the moral standards he had set himself, to remind him that his actions had consequences on the level of ordinary people not just on the larger cosmos.

Just at that moment the sound of faint laughter seemed to echo down the corridor causing goose-bumps to run up Martha’s arms. She looked ‘round not really expecting to see someone behind her and sure enough the passageway was empty.

She knew that the TARDIS had a mind of her own and mostly through her time aboard she’d found the ambient hum the old ship emitted quite restful and reassuring. But there was something about that laugh… She could have sworn there had been a certain mocking quality to it.

“Oh, get a grip,” she scolded herself, “you’ll be jumping at shadows next,” though she unconsciously quickened her pace to the bathroom.

She felt a lot better when she had showered, the lovely warm water washing away some of the memories along with the topside mud that had caked itself to her face and hair. She’d very briefly considered having a proper relaxing swim in the pool but had quickly decided against it, dressing hurriedly in the new, dry clothes she found in the locker, which of course fit perfectly, when her thoughts turned back to the Doctor’s condition. She needed to get back to him.

She had no idea how she was going to be able to help him though; she had medical knowledge, true, but no real background in even human psychology. She had learnt quite a bit in her extra training at UNIT but she still felt hopelessly out of her depth.

Maybe, she thought, Sarah Jane really could help him. She’d read the files and it seemed Miss Smith had travelled longer with the Doctor than she or Donna had combined; indeed that she had even travelled with more than one regeneration.

“STRAYS!” Martha jumped as the sudden voice echoed away down the corridor.  
“MINE!” The TARDIS gave a sudden lurch, throwing Martha to the floor; the lights flickered erratically and went out. In the pitch blackness Martha fumbled for the solid feel of the wall and clambered to her feet, aware that another jolt would just send her tumbling again. The TARDIS itself seemed to becoming more unstable, but that just made her more determined to get back to the Doctor and Donna, they could be in even greater trouble if the ship itself was working against them. She started at a run back the way she’d come, hoping that the TARDIS wouldn’t rearrange the architecture in the meanwhile.

Back in the console room Donna sat on the edge of the bed holding her friend’s hand, unaware of the turmoil in the rest of the ship. In any case she was too busy worrying about the Doctor, as he seemed to get colder and colder. She’d tried warming his hand with hers and even lain down at his side to share her heat with him as she had learnt from a work first aid lesson on treating hypothermia, but it didn’t appear to make any difference. She could only hope that this was normal for him.

Despite the affectionate nickname she’d given him, sometimes she forgot that, regardless of physical appearance, he most definitely was not human. She’d never seen him ill before. He’d pick up all sorts of cuts and bruises from their adventures but they seemed to heal within the blink of an eye. However even she could tell this was different.

She’d once seen a little of what the Time War had done to the Doctor. The depths of despair that made him believe that it wasn’t worth saving even just one person from a disaster if he couldn’t save them all. A disaster that he’d had to _make happen_ to save the rest of the Earth. Now she looked back on it the enormity of it sent her mind into a spin. How could he stand it?

She remembered when he had let her hear the Ood’s oh so mournful song, she’d asked him almost immediately to take it away again and very nearly stopped her travels with him there and then. But as she reflected, it was the fact that she knew that he could still hear it, that he could feel, and bear so much that she would never even know about and still find so much joy and beauty in his travels that gave her the courage to continue as his companion.

She gazed on his troubled, lined face that seemed centuries older than that of the carefree young man she was used to and wondered if he had perhaps borne too much.

Suddenly the room shook violently as if the TARDIS was being buffeted by heavy turbulence. Donna hung on to the Doctor both making sure he didn’t fall out of bed as well as steadying herself. Eventually the shaking calmed down but the lights dimmed to a bare minimum and went out, leaving only a phosphorous-like glow around the central console.

In the darkness Donna fumbled through the lockers around the Doctor’s bed until she thankfully found a torch. She flicked it on and was just about to make sure the Doctor was OK when she heard a shout from further down the TARDIS corridors.

“Donna!” the cry sounded somewhat strange but Donna put that down to echoes in the corridors.

“Martha?” she called back “Are you alright?” She was torn, not wanting to leave the Doctor, but Martha sounded like she was in trouble. If she’d experienced the same levels of turbulence as Donna had she might have been hurt and may need help. The scream that followed made up her mind.

“I’m coming, Martha!”

“I’ll be right back Doctor,” she assured him as with a final worried glance at the still unconscious form, looking even more alarming picked out in sickly green, she ran after the sound.

Once she’d gone the door slammed shut behind her and the central rotor ground to a halt. Then an acrid smelling smoke started seeping from the console slowly filling the room. If she could just get her thief out of the way she could deal with those two strays he had let in and she could take care of him properly again, just him and her as it should be. She’d make sure he wasn’t hurt again.

The Doctor stirred on the bed, coughing as the smoke hit the back of his throat. Forgetting his companions, he scrambled unsteadily to his feet, not even checking the conditions outside, he operated the door controls on auto-pilot. He just knew he had to get out. He stumbled outside followed by billowing clouds before the doors abruptly shut behind him, right into the path of an arrow that struck him hard in the side.

For a moment he simply stood there, unable to process any more until a second arrow embedded itself in his shoulder and the physical pain registered through the numbness clouding his mind and he collapsed to the floor. As he passed out, an insane thought stole through his brain; the pain felt nice.


End file.
